


The Things You Don't Know

by ProsperDemeter



Category: Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Established Relationship, Gen, How Do I Tag, I Don't Even Know, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-16
Updated: 2020-07-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:48:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25312606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProsperDemeter/pseuds/ProsperDemeter
Summary: The worst part of being Robin was the constant underestimation that was directed towards him. The problem was that most people assumed that he was only around to act as a distraction. Set him up in a bright red, green, and yellow suit and have him make quips and perform flips and Batman will show up and do the actual hard work. Except, well, that had never been the point of Robin.
Relationships: Dick Grayson & Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson & The Team (Young Justice), Dick Grayson/Wally West, Kid Flash/Robin
Comments: 7
Kudos: 304





	The Things You Don't Know

**Author's Note:**

  * For [censored](https://archiveofourown.org/users/censored/gifts).



> Honestly go find something better to read. I don't even know what to say about this fic it's so... weird? Pointless? Idek I hope you enjoy it if you're reading it?

The best part about being Bruce Wayne’s ward was that no one expected much out of him. If he was loud well, that made sense, how good would a billionaire playboy be at raising a child to have manners anyway? Boisterous well that was to be expected - he _had_ been raised in a circus. If he stumbled over words and had a thick accent when he was tired or upset, well he wasn’t from America let alone _Gotham_ and Bruce was _worldly_ so obviously the child he took in would be as well. 

The _worst_ part of being Robin was the constant underestimation that was directed towards him. The problem _was_ that most people assumed that he was only around to act as a distraction. Set him up in a bright red, green, and yellow suit and have him make quips and perform flips and Batman will show up and do the actual hard work. Except, well, that had never been the _point_ of Robin. “If I don’t train you then you’ll only get yourself killed.” _That_ was what Bruce had begrudgingly admitted when Dick was ten and he had found him in the Batcave when he was supposed to be sleeping. And he was right. Dick would have fought regardless. He would have been Robin _regardless_. 

Bruce just gave him a safer route, the right training so that he wouldn’t die the first time he went out, and an outlet for all of his aggression. 

“It’s a good thing,” Bruce said over breakfast one day when Dick was sixteen and shoulders slumped after a mission went wrong. “That they underestimate you. It means you have more opportunities to catch them off guard.” 

“They’re my _friends_ .” Dick had bemoaned. “I don’t _want_ them to underestimate me.” 

Bruce stared at him over the rim of his coffee mug, that frown between his eyebrows defined more clearly now that he was thirty than it had been when he was twenty five and just offered up a home to a child he had never met before. It was a sign that he didn’t truly understand what Dick was saying and after five years of working and living with the man Dick thought he was pretty well versed in Bruce Wayne’s psychology. _Friends_ were a bit of a foreign concept to him. Bruce could count the number of people he trusted on one hand and Dick wasn’t even fully sure if _he_ made the cut. Alfred was the closest thing to a complete confidant for Bruce and then it was Diana or Clark and _maybe_ Dick. But that wasn’t to say that Bruce didn’t have contingency plans upon contingency plans in case one of them turned out they were someone that _couldn’t_ be trusted. And that wasn’t what friends _were_. That wasn’t what Dick considered the team to be. 

He had told Wally a week into their friendship who he was under the mask - and Bruce had been so _angry_ about that that he hadn’t really spoken to Dick for a week afterwards except to talk about missions or school. He had told Roy to hide out at the manor if he needed to at any time - Bruce didn’t know about _that_ yet - and he had literally opened his mind up for the entire team to be inside whenever they ran missions. 

Still, Dick found their lack of faith disorienting. 

Lack of faith. That sounded wrong. They _believed_ in him but they didn’t… well they didn’t really _trust_ him. Not like they trusted each other. Except that sounded wrong too - that sounded too crude to what was really happening. The general heir of mistrust fell mostly around his identity. The entirety of the team knew that both Wally and Roy were the only two to know who he was under the mask and out of the Robin costume. Megan knew that his mind had a very strong and nearly impenetrable wall around anything that didn’t relate to Batman or Robin or the team that she was _not_ allowed to cross. Kaldur knew that he had the most training physically as well as mentally out of the entire team. Conner knew that Dick was the only one that could best him in a fight without needing powers and Artemis knew the kinds of things he faced in Gotham every single night that set him up for success no matter what the team had to face. 

The underestimation came in smaller things - Dick was from Gotham and trained under Batman so, therefore, he should only be able to understand what _Batman_ understood. Dick was human and so he wouldn’t be able to do certain things or go certain places. “So prove them wrong.” Bruce said after a moment of mulling over the problem Dick had thrown at his feet. 

“What?” 

“Prove them wrong.” Bruce’s signature small smirk pulled at his cheek as he stood up. “We both know how much you love to do that.” 

It stuck in his mind for the next month but Dick still didn’t act on it. He was part of a team - he had _learned_ to be part of _their_ team and not just Bruce’s - and, therefore, he would follow whatever orders Kaldur sent his way. If any of the others caught on to how much it grated on him they didn’t say anything - Dick was _good_ at following orders. He had been taught to be _good_ at following orders. They were infiltrating a party in Romania and it was the sort of crowd Bruce fit into seamlessly but Dick always stood out in - long, elegant party dressed and neatly pressed suits. Dick - _Robin_ \- was set on surveillance duty - the gang they were trying to take down were strong and powerful and _smart_ and Dick was too painfully human for the rest of the team to do much except tell him and Artemis to stay behind and watch their backs. 

Dick had always been an impatient child and he couldn’t help thinking that the two of them would be doing more _good_ if they were actually inside with the others. 

The biggest problem _was_ that they didn’t know how to blend in with the crowd aside from Kaldur. Wally was miserable with talking to the elite - he had no _practice_ with his parents at the comfortable middle class they were and the closest he had ever gotten was a policeman's ball with Barry. Connor stood out like a sore thumb and Megan was too excited to get to dress up and neither of them were fantastic at talking to humans - let alone humans that barely spoke English. “This is boring.” He complained for what had to be the tenth time in that hour by the glare Artemis shot him. 

“It would be better if we could understand _what_ this guy is saying.” Artemis grumbled and Dick blinked in confusion before he realized what exactly the problem was. 

Contrary to the belief of most of the team, English _hadn’t_ been Dick’s first language. His father had been American and his mother Romanian but most of the circus had spoken the language his mother did. He had _learned_ English but he hadn’t used it outside of the shows. He had been fluent _enough_ when Bruce took him in but he had been behind when he had started school out in Gotham. English was a difficult language to learn but it was his primary one now unless he was having a terrible day or drugged up on Scarecrow’s fear toxin. Bruce understood only the most rudimentary of Romanian and he had only learned enough to be able to understand what Dick was saying if he happened to slip into it. Useful, Bruce had said when Dick had caught him with a phrase book after a fews of living with him, it would be _useful_ if he understood what Dick couldn’t tell him in English. 

It had meant a lot, even if Bruce hadn’t known how to accept his gratitude. 

That wasn’t the problem, though. The _problem_ was that no one else on the team understood a thing that the guests were saying that _wasn’t_ in English and if the people they were taking down _were_ they then they certainly wouldn’t be conducting their business in English. Especially if they had caught onto a whiff of a hint that the team would be there. The other problem was that Dick hadn’t even realized that they had been _speaking_ Romanian. He had just _understood_ it without question. Why wouldn’t he? His mind translated everything he heard every day from English to his mother language and then his response out to English _again_ . Sometimes it came out garbled and twisted but everyone considered that _quirky_ and not a flaw in his character. Sometimes Wally would tease him for it if he caught it - but _never_ around the team. “You don’t know what they’re saying?” He asked even though Artemis had already said so. 

“No one does.” She fixed him with a confused look. “Except surprisingly Wally that somehow knows enough to get by.” Of course he did, why wouldn’t he when Wally was just _that kind_ to have asked Dick to teach him some when they were twelve because it was a language that neither of their parents had understood. Even Roy knew some - the three of them had used it in missions when they were younger if their mentors ever teamed up as a way to communicate without whoever they were talking down knowing what they were saying. 

“They’re talking about _fish_.” 

“What?” 

“Them,” Dick pointed as though it specified _who_ he was listening to. “Unless our guys are using specific codewords these two that Connor’s listening to aren’t them.” 

“You… understand them?” 

“Romanian was my first language.” He waved off her question absentmindedly - they had been teammates for _years_ and sometimes how little they picked up on him was shocking to him. They knew his favorite food and favorite color and what music he listened to but not what languages he spoke or how he liked his coffee or even that he wasn’t _straight_ . Meanwhile he could list off facts and traits of each of his team members within a year of knowing them - granted, he _had_ been raised by the world’s most paranoid man. Perhaps he was expecting too much of them. “Kal, I’m going in.” 

**_Don’t_ ** **-**. 

**_Dude, he’s the only one that knows what they’re saying._ ** Wally cut off their team lead and he sounded almost impatient. It must have been irritating, Dick thought, to be as underestimated as _Wally_ tended to be. **_Let him come in_ ** **.**

“You don’t even know I’m there.” Dick promised and pulled himself up onto a branch above Artemis’s head to start swinging towards the roof. 

**_Robin_ ** **.**

* * *

It was stupidly easy to break into the building - Dick had broken into rundown warehouses in Gotham with more security. It was even easier to change out of the Robin suit (and toss it into a nearby tree that he could pick it up from later), fix his hair in an empty master bathroom, stuff his domino in his back packet and change into a suit that looked mostly his size. Alfred would have a fit if he saw it, though - the sleeves were just a tad too long on the shirt, and the pants way more snug than an elegant suit was meant to be but Dick wasn’t too proud to say that he cleaned up pretty well. Dick was well aware of what the Gotham Gazette presented him as - _Gotham’s Golden Boy_ \- he was moderately tall, had thick black hair, and shockingly blue eyes the color of a clear ocean’s waves. He was strong and built from the crime fighting and acrobatics he had been practicing his entire life. 

Attractive, pretty… _whatever_ it was Dick had learned to use it to his advantage one way or another. 

At sixteen he wasn’t actually allowed to drink, but he still swiped a glass of champagne from a passing waiter with a charming smile. He noticed Wally first - finding him was like finding the other half of his magnet, statically charged and connected in a way Dick _wasn’t_ to the others - lurking by the table laden with food. He _looked_ out of place - his suit was the light grey one Iris had bought him for graduation that same year and his hair had been controlled just enough but it was the look on his face that marked him as someone that didn’t belong in the crowd of delegates and deep pockets. Kaldur was by a water fountain, his own suit a deep burgundy and a drink in hand that he pretended to sip from. Megan and Conner were side by side on the dance floor - Megan’s powder blue dress the perfect match to Connor’s dress shirt. 

Wally noticed him first, and Dick winked when they made eye contact with his best impersonation of Bruce’s sly smirk pulling at his lips. **_Incoming ladies and gentlemen, we have a hot socialite on our hands_ ** **.**

The response was instantaneous - if Dick were to put it into words it would have been that meme with a thousand question marks popping up around the man’s head. He had to try not to laugh - Wally was the only one that knew _who_ Dick was outside of the mask in attendance and Wally was apparently fully planning on using that to his advantage. 

There was only a slight problem with showing up as himself and not as Robin at any sort of socialite event - he was _bound_ to get recognized. It was quick, this time, and from an older lady that gasped just slightly and put out a hand to stop him on his way down the stairs. “Richard Grayson.” 

“Ma’am.” Her fingers were cold where they pressed into the sleeve of his suit. 

“I thought your father turned down the invitation.” Dick winced because, _of course_ Bruce had. He also winced because of the use of _father_ as Bruce’s descriptor. It wasn’t exactly _wrong_ except the word didn’t quite fit what Bruce was to him. Yes, he had raised him and praised him and helped make Dick who he was today but Dick had _had_ a father and it didn’t seem fair to John Grayson to give that title over to Bruce Wayne. Bruce had never expected it of him - only _really_ called him son if the situation called for it and now he had Jason to keep track of and, maybe, be a father to. Dick didn’t _need_ another father. 

“Did he? He told me to come in his place.” The woman laughed at Dick’s purposely coy response and her nails curled into the sleeve of his jacket to keep him in place. 

“If that isn’t like Brucie then I don’t know what is.” 

Ugh, _Brucie_ . Dick had to physically stop himself from recoiling at the use of _that_ age old nickname. It had faded out of use for the most part when Bruce had taken Dick in - he was no longer a child, no longer as much of a playboy with a kid to take care of. “What’s a boy from Gotham doing all the way in Romania?” She asked and linked her arm through his to have him help guide her down the stairs. 

“We’re on holiday.” 

“And Brucie couldn’t _charm_ us with his presence?” 

“Oh you know how Bruce is - he would much rather be in bed.” The _with a girl_ was implied but caught on easily enough and she laughed like crystal glasses banging together. 

“You _must_ meet my granddaughter.” Dick couldn’t even remember this woman’s _name_ but he figured he would allow her to introduce him to a few people - at least that way he could observe the room without looking too obvious.

**_Robin, where are you?_ ** Kaldur asked and Dick smiled around the rim of his glass and shared a look with Wally at the question. 

**_Infiltrating like a master_ ** . Wally answered it for him but was good enough at making it look as though he _wasn’t_ tracking Dick’s every move with his eyes. Luckily for him, the granddaughter was standing relatively close to where Wally was standing by the food in a gaggle of friends. He had failed to notice the amount of teenagers in the room, but that wasn’t too shocking - there were always a few stuffed into corners of any party Bruce dragged him to. She was tall - close to Wally’s height - and her dress cost more than a luxury vehicle. Pearls dangled from her neck and a clunky bracelet on her right wrist. Her hair was a light brown and her eyes as dark as wet soil. “ _This_ is my granddaughter Elisa. Elisa this is Richard Grayson - the _heir_ to the Wayne family.” 

And wasn’t _that_ odd. Dick had heard it so many times before that it really shouldn’t have shocked him as much as it did. Bruce had no blood children and Dick had _seen_ his will - he _had_ put Dick as the sole proprietor of his estate should anything happen to him. He was sure that Bruce would edit that once Jason settled in but until then Dick was, oddly, the heir to the entire Wayne fortune should anything happen to Bruce once he turned eighteen. 

His conversation with Elisa was in the back of his mind - she wasn’t really that interesting and once her grandmother wandered off to go greet _some other_ poor fool Dick easily slid away form the group of teenagers and over where Wally stood. “Dude,” Wally said from the corner of his mouth, “It is _scary_ how well you fit in here.” 

Dick _hated_ galas and socialites and everything in between. Everything they said had a double meaning but, then again, so did everything Dick did. “I’m just lucky Bruce had an invite.” 

Wally laughed and Dick had decided years ago that he preferred Wally’s laugh over anyone else’s. “Notice anything?” The great thing about Wally - _one of them_ , anyway - was that he was terribly perceptive. Chances were he noticed their mark before Dick had. He was drunk in the corner and hanging off the arm of two different women, blonde hair plastered down on his forehead and swaying on the balls of his feet. 

“Anyone else?” Dick asked because Wally had had more time to observe than he had been granted. 

“Just Megan and Connor practically making out on the dance floor.” 

**_Hey!_ **

**** **_Hey!_ **

**** Their responses were sharp towards Wally and Dick smothered a laugh behind a napkin. He wasn’t supposed to be there and he _certainly_ wasn’t supposed to be obvious about it. “The two to Kaldur’s left are part of our guy’s crew.” He said it and thought it at the same time and Kaldur’s face twitched at the mention of his name. “Three on the stairs are keeping track of everyone that goes up and comes down so I think they’re probably our gatekeepers. Two of them are carrying.” 

Almost suddenly he missed Barbara. The mental link was great, but the two of them had worked long enough together by now that he wouldn’t have even needed to point out what he had noticed. “Yeah, I noticed them too.” Wally confirmed and if the others were shocked it was their own loss. 

Perceptive. 

Dick had pegged Wally as such a thing at thirteen. 

**_When do we want to move in?_ ** Connor asked as he twirled Megan. 

**_On my mark_ **. Kaldur instructed. 

“The lights are going to go off.” Wally warned and Dick sighed. 

“The guys outside?” 

“Probably.” 

Artemis had pointed them out when they had arrived. 

Because why wouldn’t two rival gangs decide to infiltrate the same party in Romania in order to take each other down. And _of course_ they all had metas on their side. Dick swore he couldn’t make this shit up. If his parents could see what his life was now. “Are you going to join in?” Wally nudged his shoulder and put down his drink. 

“And let you have all the fun?” Dick slipped out his domino, winked again and worked on shrugging out of the black suit coat he had been wearing. “These pants are going to rip.” 

“Is that a promise?” 

“Just a statement of fact.” 

The lights flickered, Wally moved just _so_ to cover Dick from view as he slid on the mask and the room fell into darkness.

* * *

The ensuing fight was over quick - with Connor being the super kid he was he was able to pick up quite a few of the attackers while Dick and Wally worked on getting the innocent people out of the line of fire. His pants _did_ rip and Wally had laughed in his face about it until Dick had tripped him and Dick met the team outside back in the red and green Robin suit only _after_ the police had arrived. Most of the party goers hadn’t bothered to stay and wait for the police to arrive and Dick was happy to find out that it was assumed that Richard Grayson had been one of them. 

“English isn’t your first language?” Artemis slid beside him, her arms crossed and eyebrow quirked. 

“No?” 

“Why does that explain so much.” 

Dick shrugged - it wasn’t his problem to explain the situation to her and Wally’s arm was heavy along the slope of his shoulders. “Does Romania have ice cream shops?” He asked instead of carrying on with the conversation the rest of the team obviously wanted to have. 

“Mmm, I wonder if that one Mama used to take me to is still open.” 

“Wanna go find out?” 

“Why are you even asking?” 

* * *

It took the team another month to figure out the two of them had been dating since Wally’s birthday. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments make me happy.


End file.
